Storm Of The Heart
by endlessmaze
Summary: Victor Jr. was taken away from his family. Irene has faked her son's death masterfully. She escaped custody and set up a new secret facility. She has been reunited with Victor Jr.. But Victor can't remember his life and if Irene has anything to say about it he won't ever remember it the way it happened. Can Victor Jr. find his way back to the love of his life and his family?
1. Chapter 1

**Storm Of The Heart**

**Chapter One**

Raindrops pelt down against the glass of the only window pane in the room in which he sits. His gaze is directed up at the skylight high above his head. The rain is harsh, driven, with each drop slamming into the thick glass as if they are miniature bullets shot from the sky. Every single one impacts deep inside his chest. His heart aches and burns with their arrival. But his mind does not know why they are so painful.

The rain's rhythmic sound is his sole companion here. He wonders why it is not more comforting. It seems to whisper to him – seems to beg him to believe that he has not gone insane.

There are fainter whispers too – embedded in the storm – made barely audible by the onslaught of a torrential downpour. The ones that tell him he needs to fight for the truth – that there is something precious out there that he has lost and needs to find again. The ones that plead with him to believe he is being kept from everything that truly matters.

But he questions the veracity of the whispers. Seems he would remember if something like that existed in his life. Certainly he would know about it. He comes to the conclusion that it is simply his own wishful thinking echoed back to him by the storm. These are simply plea filled whispers – creations of his own lonely heart. Either that or he has edged over into complete delusion and insanity.

Dim images blink off and on at the fringes of his mind. They arrive and depart so quickly though that the details always slip from his grasp when he attempts to hold on to them for longer than a heartbeat. Mostly he is left only with their residue - impressions and fragile snapshots.

A woman's laughter floats through his mind followed by the sensation of her embrace. There are other happy voices laughing too. These ones are more youthful. Their happiness always brings a smile to his lips and tugs at something deep inside his heart.

There a few hazy images that cling to his mental sight. The pictures are so clouded that any detail is masked. There's one of a child playing – a little boy. Then an image of a woman's elegant hand comes to him. He cannot see her face just her hand and fingers. She wears something on one of them but the detail is fuzzy. But its metallic surface catches the light and creates a warm glow. He would swear it is a wedding band. But the haziness of the image and the glow created by the light wash out its details.

There are other images but they are just as mysterious.

He has no memory to connect up with these fragments. He has sat for hour upon hour searching his own mind for where they reside. He always comes up empty handed and saddened. What little memory he has explains none of these things. There is no evidence to support that these fragile happy sensations are nothing more than a creation of his isolation and loneliness here. He has made them up like a child whose need for companionship brings about imaginary friends.

There is nothing beyond these walls for him. As much as he loathes this place it is all there is for him. Those happy laughing voices don't exist. They were nothing but a figment of his imagination or insanity or perhaps both. Sadness clenches his heart at the realization. Then he thinks that he must be really pathetic if the loss of imaginary companions leaves him feeling completely alone.

The woman who says she's his mother insists that this is where he belongs and that his true place is at her side. That he is better off here and in her care. He doesn't particularly like her version of caring. It has been nothing short of heartless and humiliating. The thought is interrupted as a sharp click resonates inside the sparsely decorated room. This loud click sound always accompanies the door to his room being unlocked from the outside.

"Good evening my dear Victor!" Irene offers as soon as she appears at the threshold to his room.

He simply glares at her as she enters and approaches him. Her two shadows, each a brick wall of a man, have entered as well but remain stationed near the doorway.

"You shouldn't greet me with such distaste. You need me after all."

"I need you like I need another hole in my chest," he responds referring to the now healed wound. Just another thing he doesn't remember – the shooting. They had told him that he had been accidentally shot by security at the facility. He had gone somewhere within the building he was not supposed to be triggering an alarm in the security center. Guards had arrived and in the darkened room didn't realize it was Victor and he was shot – a single 9mm bullet in the chest. Since the facility has everything including a medical area he didn't need to be taken elsewhere to be treated and recover.

He doesn't remember the shooting and wonders how that could be possible. He questions aloud too but all his mother tells him is that he's special and because of that he doesn't remember things very well. There was a vague mention of trauma causing such reactions as well.

"Come along now. It's time for your session," she quips and starts towards the doorway. Only to shortly turn back when she senses he is not obeying.

"We've been through this before Victor. I know what is best for you. You will be better if you trust in that and come along."

He knows what she means. Every time she comes to take him to one of these sessions he refuses and that's when her shadows take over the convincing. The one that is standing to the right of the doorway now, Clyde, had given him a bloody nose the last time around as he had tried to fight them off and keep them from taking him. He always remembers the fight before the session but never the session itself. All his so called mother would tell him was that she would take care of him and to trust her. When she says it his instincts scream at him not to buy it for one second. And he doesn't.

Clyde steps forward towards where he sits and stops. Crossing his arms over his chest he speaks.

"We always win Victor. Why not do this the easy way for once?"

"Go to hell!" Victor snaps back.

So with that the three, Victor and the two brick wall like men, embark upon their struggle. Even Victor knows the man had been right. They always win but something told him never to stop fighting. He is not exactly sure what he is fighting for but at the very least he fights for his imaginary companions. With each passing session they come to him less and less frequently and more and more faintly. As pathetic as it is he does not want to lose them. He fears once he losses them they will be gone forever.

Even his best effort could never overcome the advantage the other two men have upon him - leverage for the most part. He blames his failure on being trapped in the wheelchair with both legs paralyzed, a result of that bullet causing damage to his spinal cord. His mother had broken the news to him after he had awoken from the shooting and didn't have any feeling in either of his legs. Then she had given her version of reassurance suggesting that perhaps it was for the best since he wouldn't be able to make it on his own outside the facility anyway and everything he needed was here. He didn't need his legs they would only cause him to want to stray from where he belonged.

He feels like an idiot which actually backs up his mother's claims that he's not very bright and that's why he needs her. He feels like an idiot but he also feels like he's being manipulated.

On the other hand she reminds him that he is capable of doing horrible things and this is another reason he needs to remain here. Somehow he knows part of this is true. He can feel the anger that simmers under the surface – can feel its power. He knows that the capacity for doing horrible things is the truth.

And a distant piece of his mind wonders if isolation here in this place is his penance for the twisted darkness that lurks inside him.

Another piece of him is tugged at relentlessly to fight his way to something out there outside these walls somewhere that brings out the good in him.

So he struggles against Clyde and Avery, the two massive brick walls he can never manage to overcome. This time is no different as they subdue him and restrain him to his chair.

"We have work to do!" Irene remarks once all is still in the room. And with that Victor clings to hope that when he next returns to this room his imaginary companions will not be forever lost

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Tea sits at the table in the living room and taps at the keys on her laptop. After a few more strikes of the fingertips she closes the computer and blows out a weary breath. Using both hands pressed down against the tabletop she propels herself into a standing position and slowly wanders the few feet to stand in front of the glass doorway that leads outside.

The rain is a mere pitter patter against the glass as it had begun only a few moments earlier. It won't remain so for very much longer however. She has checked the weather on the internet and Llanview was due to get quite a storm. Actually it looked like Llanview wasn't alone – a good portion of the country was getting rain this evening according to the radar map.

She is alone in the house since Daniella is staying over at La Boulaie for the night. Tea is grateful that Starr has been such a good sister to her daughter during the past few months – especially since they have been tough ones at times.

Tea's fingertips fall away from the pane of glass and land gently upon her stomach. Her hand makes soft soothing circles there. Her pregnancy is nearing its end – her due date is rapidly approaching with the passing of each new day.

She is both excited and terrified. The excitement is the more often present of the two. She smiles faintly as she wonders if the baby - which she secretly feels will be a boy - might have Victor's eyes or smile. The terror comes when the thought of giving birth without her husband there creeps into her mind.

Shoving the thought from the forefront of her mind she turns away from the window and her gaze lands upon the floor in front of the couch. At that moment the rain intensifies becoming harsher taps upon the glass. She glances back over her shoulder for an instant to watch it coming down. Then twists back around. Her eyes once again find the area of floor nearby the fireplace and couch.

Some had gently suggested to Tea that she should move out of the house. That maybe it would bring her some sort of closure. She could not bear the thought of it at least not yet. Victor had died in her arms in this very room. She had seen the departing haze in his eyes. She had felt him leave.

Even though the house was emptier than it once had been something lingered. The connection she and Victor had shared especially in that last moment remained presence in the house. Some nights it embraced her like her lover's arms had done so many times. Other times it was a fainter presence – just a wisp of warmth swirling in the chilled night air.

Leaving the house would have meant severing that connection. So she would stay as long as it lingered. And depart if it ever disappeared.

"I miss you so much Victor. I still can't believe you're gone," she whispered.

What she had told John McBain had been the truth. She had been convinced that nothing could ever kill him. Nothing could ever truly crush such as fiercely stubborn and endlessly fighting spirit.

It was an illusion shattered one dark night when he had vanished from her life.

That night had been much like the current one. With that thought she turned back to the window and as she watches the sky cry she cries with it.

_To Be Continued..._

_Author's note: Many more familiar characters to come in this story including Vikki and Todd._


	2. Chapter 2

**Storm Of The Heart**

**Chapter Two**

The chime of the doorbell is just barely enough to pull Tea out of her reflective thoughts. So much so she wonders how many times it has sounded before she registered it. Mentally noting that she really needs to untangle herself from the past she moves briskly to the doorway.

"Viki! What on earth brings you out on a night like tonight?" she questions upon opening the door.

"Visiting my sister-in-law and soon to be niece or nephew," Viki responds as she slips inside and closes up her umbrella.

"Here let me take that for you," Tea offers with an outstretched hand and then accepts the drenched umbrella from the other woman. Turning towards the staircase she hangs it on the railing there. As she does so the memory of hanging another umbrella on that same spot on another rainy night flashes through her mind. The impact of it takes her breath away and for a moment she cannot move.

"Tea? Tea, darling, are you alright?" Vikki asks with concern evident in her voice. She steps to where Tea stands and places a hand on her arm.

"Yes. Yes. I'm fine. Just – just thinking you shouldn't have come out in this weather," Tea manages to respond after a beat.

"Believe me I have survived much greater foes than a little wind and rain!" Viki replies with a soft smile.

"Good point. But still you didn't have get soaked on my account."

"I'll let you in on a little secret. I have been meaning to come over and see you. But what finally got me over here was that empty house. I guess everyone had somewhere to be tonight. Even Clint was out. And if there's one thing I hate it's an empty house."

"Tell me about it."

"Oh Tea I didn't mean to - " Viki begins to say but Tea cuts her off quickly.

"No Viki. It's okay. You didn't say anything wrong. I was doing some reflecting earlier is all. It's got me a bit distracted."

"Happens to the best of us. Oh! Before I forget is Dani home? Bree made something in art class for her. She was insistent Dani get it sooner than later."

"Insistent huh? Bree will be running The Banner before you know it. But no. She's staying over at La Boulaie visiting with Starr, Jack and Sam."

"I am so glad that they have each other."

"Me too."

"How's she doing? It's been a few days since I saw her last," Viki inquires as she slips out of her coat.

"Good days and bad days."

"And you? How are you doing?"

"Good days and bad days."

"I really should have seen that coming!" Viki responds with a grin. The attempt to insert some levity makes a faint crack in the heavy air in the room. Viki could tell the instant that she had entered the house that all was not calm within. There was a weighted unsettled feeling to the air.

"You really should have!" Tea teases back.

"Well, we have the house to ourselves what do you say we make some coffee and visit awhile?" Viki proposes.

"I'd like that," Tea replies quietly. Just Viki's mere presence in the house is comforting. And she is tugged to talk with Viki about Victor given she is one of only a few that would understand.

"Shall we then?" Viki answers back and gestures for Tea to lead the way to the kitchen and hopefully some rather strong coffee.

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The haze clouding Victor's mind begins to lift. As the world trickles piece by piece slowly back into his brain he finds himself in his wheelchair being pushed along one of the countless white corridors at the facility.

"Coming around I see. Your session is all done. As instructed by your mother I'm taking you back to your room!" the familiar voice of Avery, brick wall of a guard number two, announces. Victor formulates a sarcastic response inside his head but he is still foggy and somewhat disconnected from his physical form. He can't get his voice to make it's way out through his closed lips. Avery takes his silence as a cue to continue jabbering.

"Long one today. Must have gone well. They're always longer when it's going well. Your mother seemed pleased when she came out. And it's taking you longer to come out of it. Most days by now you won't shut the hell up with your incessant questions."

All Victor can think of at that moment is how intensely he wishes this jackass would take his own advice and shut his trap. The usual post session headache is making its presence known more brutally with each passing second. Avery's booming baritone voice is only making the vice grip on his head tighter.

Having finally begun to reconnect with his own body he brings his right hand up and cups his forehead inside his palm. The pounding in his skull sharply magnifies at that moment. His left hand grips the arm of his wheelchair to the point where it grinds into his skin. Unable to contain it a groan escapes through his clenched teeth. Nausea washes over him and it must be as visibly bad as it feels because Avery notices.

"I swear if you puke all over this floor you'll regret it."

Victor barely hears him as the nausea wanes and dizziness makes the bright white corridor spin and swirl around him. He grips the arms of his chair with both hands and tucks his head into his chest silently pleading for the world to settle.

"Damn it. Why the hell don't they just give you the drugs for this shit before you leave the session room? Especially with the longer sessions. You never make it back to the room and even when you do I have to go all the way back to escort the nurse back into the restricted area. Not this time. I'm not taking you all the way down there only to have to turn round and come all the way back again!" Avery rants before roughly steering Victor's chair out of the middle of the hallway and closer to the wall of the corridor. Stopping and locking the chair so it doesn't roll he continues.

"You're freaking crippled! You're doubled over from the pain in that mashed potato head of yours. It's not like you are going to stroll away. So much easier to get the nurse from here. Still a ways back but better than the whole dang thing."

With that Avery storms off back down the hallway they had just traveled down. Victor hears him go but is too overwhelmed with the return of the nausea and the worsening of the dizziness to react. Using his arms he slides himself forward in the chair slightly and leans over at the waist as queasiness grips him. If he has to empty his stomach he sure the hell isn't doing it all over himself.

The dizziness spikes and in attempt to balance himself he shifts forward more. But it's too far and unable to stop it he pitches forward out of the chair completely.

He lands harshly in a heap on the cold hard floor. For a long moment he braces himself against the agony the fall brings his head. When the pain diminishes slightly he begins to attempt to reposition himself so he can make a go of getting back in the chair but freezes as a familiar voice floats to his ears. Turning his head in the direction it comes from he sees he had landed directly beside a air vent set in the base of the wall of the corridor.

The voice is faint but clearly recognizable as Irene's. Despite the pain in his head he focuses on the sound as it floats through the empty shaft of the vent.

"Everything is going beautifully. As I knew it would. I mean the programming worked so well last time around that Victor was still convinced he was Todd even after he came face to face with him. His susceptibility makes he extremely useful."

When she finishes speaking another voice takes its place. This one is male and Victor doesn't recognize who it belongs to.

"I agree that the sessions themselves are progressing on track," he responds.

"Clearly you have some sort of issue on your mind."

"I am a bit unclear on the plan for his paralysis down the road when we near the completion of his programing."

"Just because you are unclear doesn't mean I am."

"Care to share?"

"I suppose at this juncture it would be prudent to inform you on the medical side of this undertaking."

"It would be of great assistance preparing for the implementation phase."

"You see I have complete control over when or if Victor regains use of his legs. I was very pleased with the drug that Dr. Harris developed for this purpose. I mean to be able to target only certain areas of the body and render them paralyzed while leaving other areas entirely unhindered. And to be able to administer it through food and drink. It's a breakthrough that will change medicine as we know it."

"I doubt that breakthroughs in medicine were your primary goal in employing Dr. Harris."

"Point taken. My primary objective was, of course, eliminating the potential for Victor getting any misguided notions of escaping before our work is done. As long as he is in that wheelchair and believes he is permanently paralyzed I have him dependent on me. I have complete control. He will not stray. And if by some rare miscalculation on Dr. Harris' part the drug decreases in its effectiveness there is Plan B."

"Plan B?"

"Plan B is need to know basis. Right now it is for me to know not you."

"So if the drug is discontinued he will regain sensation and mobility without any additional treatment needed?"

"For the most part. That bullet did no damage to his spinal cord whatsoever. Of course he will need to rebuild strength in his legs after lack of use. Fortunately due to the brainwashing he won't recall that he was ever with Ms. Perkins and her associates and that he still had use of his legs at that time. Suppressing the memory of his shooting and then recreating a new explanation so he believes it occurred here accidentally was inspired if I do say so myself."

"I will hand it to you. Even if Victor did try to escape how far would he get in that chair. The facility is surrounded by miles of rough terrain. He would never make it."

"Like I told you I am in complete control. Now we have that other pesky piece of business to take care of. Follow me!" Irene instructs. Then by the sound of a door opening and closing followed by silence it is clear they have moved out of earshot.

The few last words seem to echo against the metal walls of the vent and by the time they reach Victor's ears they resonate hauntingly. He swallows hard as he absorbs what he has just heard. He is not actually paralyzed. They are giving him some sort of drug that numbs the sensation in his legs. And if he is no longer getting the drug he will be able to walk again.

Red hot rage wells up inside him. He clenches his hands into fists so tightly they begin to ache. But he does not release them. He longs to scream but something inside him tells him to keep it inside.

If he loathed this place and his so called mother before now his hatred for them physically makes his body shake and his blood boil. Victor bites down and then clenches his jaw to hold in the scream. His already aching hands throb as he squeezes them into fists even further. He can feel the blood trickle across his skin as his fingernails cut into his palms.

But he does not scream.

Because somewhere mixed in with the rage and pain there is something else. It is just a flicker of something that had seemingly abandoned him a long time ago.

It is the sliver of hope he feels that keeps him from screaming out. It tells him to remain silent. It also whispers seductively to him that with the information he has learned, unbeknownst to Irene, there just might be a way to use it to his advantage. He may even have a fair shot at escape.

Before he can linger in the sensation any longer he hears the booming voice of Avery from somewhere nearby in the labyrinth of hallways. He scrambles to slide away from the vent and to once again reposition himself for an attempt at getting back in the chair. His legs may be weak and numb but his arms most certainly are not and quickly he is propped up with his hands braced against the rock hard floor.

'What the hell! I leave you alone for a couple of minutes and you can't even stay upright!" Avery grumbles as he arrives before the empty wheelchair and Victor down on the floor. The large man starts to reach down to pluck the much more wiry Victor from the floor but the nurse who has returned with the guard stops him by speaking.

"I should check him out first in case he was hurt by the fall!" she tosses out in a much more concerned voice than Avery's. Victor looks over at her. The young petite brunette dressed in scrubs is familiar to him. Many a time it was her who accompanied Avery back to his room with the medications for his migraines and queasiness. If he recalled her name was Chelsea.

"I'm okay! No harm done," Victor informs her confidently.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes. I just leaned a little too far forward is all and couldn't recover fast enough," he answers. The young woman is silent for a moment. Her gaze scans him for any visible damage.

"Oh dear!" she says softly but quickly. Pulling a pair of gloves from her pocket the nurse kneels in front of him.

"Really I'm alright!" he insists. Grasping hold of his left wrist and lifting his hand from the floor she replies.

"Your idea of alright is a little off!" she comments as the blood covering the palm of his hand is now visible.

"I don't know. Sounds about right to me cuz he's more than a little bit off if you ask me,"Avery chimes in.

"Well, nobody asked you, did they?" Victor snaps. He has had about enough of brick wall number two.

"Watch it! You can be very easily be out of it again when my fist connects with your face!"

"Hey! Was that really necessary?" Chelsea interjects.

"Trust me it was. He's a pain in the ass!" Avery responds.

"Right because you are such a joy to be around," Victor retorts.

"Well for right now I need to take care of my patient. So maybe you two can agree to disagree for a few minutes if you don't mind," Chelsea states firmly.

Both men remain silent but their irritation is evident in their expressions.

"I need to clean up those cuts but since I don't have the proper medical supplies with me to do that we'll have to take him to the medical wing," she continues.

"You're freaking kidding me right?" Avery responds sourly.

"Afraid not."

"Fine! Let's go Victor!" Avery snaps and proceeds to effortlessly collect Victor from the floor and place him back in the wheelchair. Avery unlocks the chair and with a sharp U-turn they are off down the hallway again.

But for Victor this time a renewed hope rides along with him as they travel the maze of corridors. Thoughts of walking again fill his mind. The real possibility of freedom sends adrenaline coursing through his veins.

A storm begins to brew in his heart. Maybe out there somewhere is a place where he truly belongs. And maybe one day he will find it.

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Viki wanders around the living room while she awaits Tea's return from the kitchen with the forgotten sugar for their coffee. She pauses near the table and gazes out the window into the dark night. The rain is not as wild now. It has not stopped by any means but it is lighter and less harsh.

"Is it any better out there?" Tea inquires as she enters back into the room.

"Yes. Actually quite a bit calmer."

"Good. Now maybe this little one will settle down!" Tea replies and places a hand on her belly.

"Ah! I see. A bit restless?"

"Viki, I tell you every time there is a storm this bambino gets all riled up and won't stay still for two seconds!" Tea states with a finger pointed towards her stomach. To this Viki's face lights up in a smile and she lets out a chuckle.

"What so amusing?" Tea questions in confusion.

"This _is_ Victor's child we are talking about here."

"I guess I can't argue with that," the younger woman responds inside a laugh. But her amusement at the truth of the statement is short lived and she falls silent. Viki takes notice and moves to where Tea stands.

"Come sit down with me," Vikki offers and guides Tea to the couch. Tea remains silent and swallows down hard against her emotions.

"Tea, darling, you know that you can talk to me right? About anything. We're family."

"I know Viki and I appreciate it. I just -" Tea begins to say but the rest of the words get caught in her throat. Taking in a deep breath she tries again.

"Viki, I miss him so much and some days it's all I can think about. I think about how this child will never know their father. And he will never get to meet this child. He didn't even know I was pregnant. It's been all these months and I still can't even believe he's gone. It's still surreal even after all this time."

"I going to tell you a little secret. A secret I never even told Victor," Viki states softly.

"What's that?"

"When I looked at the two of you together even when it was in the midst of one of Victor's less than stellar moments – and lord knows he had a few - I didn't just see the two of you I saw soulmates. That kind of connection can transcend separation. It even transcended the loss of his identity. And I think that is why it is so difficult for you to accept his disappearance. Because he's still in your heart. So he is never truly gone."

To this Tea is only able to nod. Tears water her eyes but she is smiling at the same time.

"Am I close?"

"Spot on!" Tea declares and wipes the moisture from her eyes. After a quiet moment she continues.

"Of course it was a shock finding out he wasn't Todd. While we were waiting to hear what Irene had to say I was so freaked out about what would happen to my marriage if it turned out he wasn't the real Todd. Terrified that everything would just fall apart. Then when it happened it was tough to take in – to process – but at the same time in the middle of it all I looked at him and realized that it didn't matter what his name was. I was deeply connected to the person standing in front of me and confusion over what name to use to address him seemed so unimportant."

"Love won out."

"Yes it did," Tea whispers in agreement. After a still moment Vikki speaks up.

"When I was trying to write what I was going to say at the funeral I came to a realization myself. Normally those types of things are filled with not only the things the person did and who they loved but also with who they were. I realized with Victor that even he didn't know which pieces of who he had been for the last eight years were him and which pieces originated from what was drilled into his head about Todd. I came to believe that it landed in the middle somewhere. And that even if I didn't know what pieces exactly were the ones that uniquely belonged to Victor I was still connected to him by whatever they were and also by the things we shared together. He wasn't a stranger. I so wish there had been more time to get to know him as my brother Victor though!" Viki says and then after only a beat Tea jumps in.

"He was still trying to process it all too. Trying to sort out what inside his head belonged to whom – him or his brother. He realized it didn't wipe away the things he had done in those eight years but he did try to think of it as a clean slate – a new name and the opportunity to discover himself separate from Todd. But that was stolen from him too. He never had the chance to even begin doing that."

"But what he did have was you standing by his side. And that is the thing that mattered the most to him."

"I just don't understand how a mother could do that to her own children. Hold one captive for years while torturing him and take the other and strip him of his memories and identity and then brainwash him to believe he is someone else. Even just the thought of doing that to Dani or to this little one sickens me."

"And that is exactly what she was – sick. And god help me but I am relieved that she is dead so that she can't do anymore harm."

"Shooting Irene was the one thing Todd has done in recent memory that I take no issue with. Just knowing she was alive out there somewhere would have had all of us looking over our shoulders. And that is not the life I want for my children."

"Me either. This baby of yours is going to be safe and surrounded by people who love him or her. The life its father would have wanted for his child."

"An Irene-free life. What a wonderful life that will be!" Tea teasingly announces.

"Amen to that!" Viki chimes in before taking Tea by the hand and pulling her up into a standing position.

"I heard that you and Jessica went shopping for items for the baby and practically bought out the store. I even heard a rather amusing story about the pair of you trying to fit a rather large stuffed giraffe in a rather small backseat. I think I need to see this unruly animal for myself. So lead the way!"

"Okay but don't ask me to re-enact putting him in the backseat of the car because sister-in-law or not that was a one time performance."

"Deal!" Vikki agrees and gestures a hand toward the doorway of the room. Tea leads the way out of the living room and toward the staircase. Tea ponders out loud as they head up the stairs.

"I wonder if Victor would have picked the giraffe? Or if he even liked giraffes."

"I'm sure if he didn't we would have been promptly and in no uncertain terms informed of it."

To this Tea lets out a laugh then responds.

"Part of his charm!"

It is Viki's turn to laugh and she does feeling a little more hopeful than when she first arrived. She may have lost her brother but she gained getting to know his child.

_To Be Continued..._


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